PART NINE: A DIVINE VERDICT

As soon as the Christ had returned to Heaven, I felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility to share me life-saving story with everyone. I immediately realized, though, that I had no proof of my death and resurrection. I knew that no one would believe me and that I would be labelled insane. I sensed that timing was not right for me to tell of my experiences. I was not afraid to talk about what had just happened to me, but I knew that no one would benefit from the telling as there was no proof.

On realizing that I could not tell anyone what had happened to me, I felt empty inside and I felt as though I were in a vacuum. I lost sight of what my purpose in life was. I thought that life was meaningless, if I could not live to my fullest for God, Christ, and God's plan. I began to wonder if was just too much of a coward to talk about my death and resurrection. I debated this idea for a short while.

In the end, I decided to concentrate on the Kingdom of God and on trying to show people around me the love that God can have for those, who want to love and obey Him. I felt the need to tell as many people as I could about the gift of eternal life available from God. I knew that my immediate deeds had to be met, too. To this end, I knew that I had to finish delivering my newspapers. This thought jolted me back to the reality of my world and I noticed that my car was still slowly moving forward. I could not tell whether or not the car engine was still running: my hearing was either out of synchronization with the physical world or I was not able to hear temporarily. My first reaction was to tramp on the brakes. I checked for cars behind me and there was no one on the road either behind or in front of me. In a bit of panic, I tramped on the brakes without putting my foot down on the clutch and the car stalled as it had a standard transmission. I restarted my and proceeded in the direction of the Whonnock General Store, which was my next stop.

As I was driving, everything seemed as normal as before except my surroundings had a strangely quiet air about them. It felt as though time had stopped. The sky was quite abnormal in one way: it was filled with an intense white light. Except for the sky, any abnormality to those moments was virtually imperceptible: something just felt strange.

Then suddenly, my body felt light. My car seemed to be moving up off the ground. I double checked to see if my car and I were actually ascending upwards and I could not believe my eyes: my car and I were ascending upwards slowly. I started pushing down on the steering wheel to force my car back down to the road. My car and I rose above the treetops. I felt giddy. There was a blinding, white flash and a power surge went through my body. I knew that I had been made immortal.

Admittedly, I felt disoriented as well as giddy. Even now, it seems odd to me that I would have had such human-oriented or physically oriented reactions, but it was likely just a transitional reaction. I was uncertain as to what I should do, as to what I was doing, and as to what I was being compelled to do. I suspected that my purpose in life had changed. I sensed something else at that moment, too. I was aware that the earth was moving through the galaxy faster than usual. I sensed that the earth was hurtling towards the sun.

I looked off to my right and I saw God, Christ, the Angel Gabriel, and several other Angels. God told me to get out of my car, which was about four car heights above the treetops, and to join them. I opened my car door and God told me that I did not need to open it as I was immortal and incorporeal. He said that I could even go through the roof of the car. I opened the door half way and then I stood up and passed through the door, the door's upper frame, and the car roof as any spirit being would. I felt even giddier from the effects of having just been made immortal and from the height.

I started to walk on air towards God and then, I became very aware of being above the trees and I started to sink. God told me that I was all right and that I should keep walking. I relaxed. I began to laugh because I thought of the biblical account, where Christ's apostles were in a boat on the Sea of Galilee and they saw Christ walking on the water towards them. Peter asked Christ to let him join Him on the water and Christ told Peter to get out of the boat and walk to Him. Peter did so and was successful until his fear took over and he started to sink. Christ reached out to him, took a hold of him, and rescued him. The similarity between this story and my situation was too great to unnoticed by me. God asked me why I was laughing and I told Him what I was thinking. God told me that I knew His Word very well. I thanked Him and apologized for my lack of faith. Then, I laughed and explained to God that it was foolish enough of myself to think that I would sink, if I kept my focus, but also it was very foolish of myself to think that I would get hurt when I was immortal.

Once again, God asked me to approach His Group and Him. I started towards Him. I was overawed by God: He appeared to be about fifteen times the size of a six-foot or one-hundred-eighty-centimetre tall human being. Christ appeared to be three times the size of a six-foot tall human being and the Angel Gabriel appeared to be about twice the size of a six-foot tall human being. The rest of the Angels appeared to be about the same size as a six-foot tall human being.

I said to God that I sensed that He was hurtling the earth towards the sun and he confirmed my observation. I became very pensive and as a result I stopped approaching God. I asked the Creator why He would destroy the earth. He looked really terrifyingly angry and He said that he was angry with the people on the earth, that He was angry that I had been shot, and that He was sorry that He had made the earth at all. God told me that His Creation was a failure and that He was disappointed in it.

I said that I thought that His Creation was not a failure and I asked Him how He could make good on His promise of resurrection for all those, who had died believing in Him. He said that He could raise up anyone, whom He wanted to raise up. He said that He could start again and make a new earth. I apologized to God for daring to question His decision to destroy the earth, but I said that it seemed a waste to started again when it could be possible to convince more humans that He really does love all those, who follow His Word. I said that more people would want to follow Him, would want to serve Him, and would thirst for eternal life, if they were just told about Him. I said that it seemed unfortunate that the living faithful at that moment should taste death in such a way. God told me that He could keep the faithful at that time alive. I countered by saying that those, whom He kept alive would remember the old earth and that the recollection would cause them emotional pain. God said that He could erase all the memories from those people. I countered again by saying that I was immortal and that I would likely have a fraction of my memories intact. During this discussion, I frequently apologized to God, if I seemed irreverent in my comments. He said that I was not being irreverent, that it was all right for me to talk to Him in that manner, and that the discussion was useful.

Then, God put an amazing question to me. He asked me what I proposed. I asked God to return me to my mortal state, to put me back on the earth, and to give me some time to tell more people about Him, His love, and His promise. God told me to stand where I was and not come any closer in order to allow His some time to confer with His close Group around Him. I agreed, of course! God turned to face His entire Group. I could not see Them all because of God's enormity. After about a minute of discussion, God turned to face me again. He said that my suggestion was accepted. He told me that my struggles would continue, but that I would eventually conquer them. He asked, if I accepted that. I said that it would be difficult, but I told Him that it was for the best for everyone on earth and in Heaven. I accepted. God said that there would be some changes to His Word (the Bible).

A few more things were said and then, God asked me to get into my car. I was told that I would be returned to earth and that I would not be fully aware of the discussion that had just taken place, right away. God said that I would remember everything concerning my death and resurrection gradually.

PART EIGHT: THE HEALING

Miraculously, I came to my senses slightly again within a few seconds. The pain in my head was excruciating. The pain in my right leg was severe, but it seemed manageable compared to the pain in my head. I could not see or hear. I touched my eyes and I spread my eyelids apart with my thumbs and index fingers. I had proven that I really could not see. Panic was starting to mount. I felt blood everywhere. It was in my eyes and my ears. Blood was all over my face. The blood dried on my fingers quickly in the hot, summer sun: my fingers became sticky. Then, I started to feel something different on my hands. This new substance felt like very warm Jell-o that had not set yet. It was my brains. I knew what I was touching and my panic heightened.

While I was running my hand over my face, I had noticed that my face seemed shorter length-wise than it should have been. I explored my jaw area and found that my lower jaw was missing. I reached up under where my chin and lower jaw should have been and my fingers were able to touch the entirety of the roof of my mouth without hindrance. There was a large hole in the roof of my mouth. The hole was about two inches or five centimetres in diameter. I was able to touch my brains through this hole. My brains were very literally scrambled in this area of my head. I panicked. I sobbed. No tears came. I knew that I was alive, but that I was a mess and an invalid. I called out to God in a silent prayer for help.

I continued exploring my head with my right hand. I searched for my tongue next as I had not yet found it. I found its stump at the back of my throat. My right hand traced the edges of the skin outside my upper jaw and I discovered that my mouth and cheeks were torn right back to my throat on both sides. I followed down my chest with my right hand and I found that my lower jaw and severed tongue were plastered to my chest with brains and blood. As soon as I touched my severed tongue, it fell, hit my right leg, and landed on the floor of my car. I could not find it again as I was still unable to see.

I felt where there was pain in my right leg. There were two bullet holes all the way through my leg and there was lots of blood on my leg. I was able to move my body and my left leg with relative ease, but I was able to move my head and my right leg only a little. I panicked and begged God to heal me or to take my life quickly as He saw fit.

I heard the voices of two men speaking close to me. When I say that I heard the voices of these men, I do not meant it in the conventional way, though. It was as if I was sensing two men speaking via some inner ability. It was long after these events that I realized that I heard these two men speaking through telepathic ability on my part at that time.

The two men expressed their shock over having shot and killed a newspaper carrier: there was even some outrage in their voices. One of the men said that he had been told that I was planting bombs in mailboxes. They also expressed their shock over me being alive. One of the men said that he would have to shoot me again because I was in too much of a mess to live that way. He did not think that any doctor would be able to cure me. I later realized that these two men were the army sharpshooters, who had been commissioned to kill me.

A third man suddenly appeared on the scene and the two men asked him how he had arrived there and who he was. He replied that Hew was an Angel of God and, more precisely, that He was Jesus Christ. He said that He had been sent from Heaven by God to heal me. The two men asked what was going to happen and Christ's reply was that He did not know, that God would decide, and that God was really angry that I had been shot for not reason. The two men apologized and said that they had been lied to. Christ said that He knew and that it was not their fault really. Then Christ said that He had to take his leave form them and heal me. They asked if they could watch and Christ said that they were allowed to watch the healing, but they had to back up a distance because of the intensity of the power needed to heal me.

As I was not used to listening to any conversation through telepathy, I was very disoriented and did not believe the content of what I had sensed. In the next instant, I felt a hand close to my face and an extremely hot and painful sensation on the wounded areas. I did not understand what was occurring and so I resisted. I held the hand away from me. The being (The Christ), who was helping me, told me that He was helping me and that He would have to cause me pain elsewhere in my body, if I did not allow Him to heal me. I put my had down, telepathically told Him that I submitted, I let Him heal me. I felt the flesh, blood, and brains such back into and onto my body. I felt flesh knitting together. My face and right leg felt searingly hot. Then suddenly, I could see and hear and I saw Christ ascending into heaven once again. I waved at Him, smiled at Him, and thanked Him for having healed me. He smiled, waved back, and acknowledged my gratitude. He shot heavenward faster than a flash of lightning. He had been dressed all in white and intensely bright to look at. The light was white. The light had emanated from Him. At this point, I did not really perceive that this had been the Christ. I knew that an Angel of God had come to me, though. I felt overawed by my theophanic experience and overjoyed by my resurrection.

PART SEVEN: A FIRST ENDING

I was delivering a newspaper, called the Vancouver Sun, in eastern Maple Ridge, which is the district bordering on the west side of Mission, my hometown. At that time, the Vancouver Sun was considered an evening newspaper, but my papers were dropped off at my paper shack between ten and eleven o'clock in the morning, so that I could have them delivered by early evening. This meant that I delivered the newspapers from late morning through to the end of the afternoon or the beginning of the evening.

On the morning of July 11, 1989, I caught sight of a Royal Canadian Air Force (RCAF) helicopter flying behind in my direction as I was driving down the highway on my way to Maple Ridge. I saw the helicopter in my mirror at first and then, I was able to see it out my car window directly. When I arrived at the newspaper shack, I saw the RCAF helicopter hovering far up over me. I knew that the hunt against me had begun. From July 11, 1989 to July 17, 1989, I was shot at. Every morning from July 12, 1989 to July 17, 1989, I looked out the living room window of my parents' house and saw the RCAF helicopter hovering about 3.5 kilometres or about 2.25 miles to the south of my position over the Fraser River. The helicopter followed me as I drove over my newspaper route.

The Royal Canadian Army and the Royal Canadian Mounted Police have recently confirmed for me that fifty bullets were fired at me, that twenty-eight bullets missed me, and that twenty-two bullets hit me through the open window of my car. My car window was open because it was a very hot July and I was delivering the newspapers out through the window of the car and placing them in the rural mailboxes. I was shot at in an area of eastern Maple Ridge that is sparsely populated: there are small hobby farms there. The final two bullets were fired nearly simultaneously by two army sharpshooters. Each of the first twenty times that I was hit, I was hit in the neck or head and my body simply jerked as I blinked. I was left wondering whether or not I had been hit. Of course, I had been hit, but God was protecting me. If a person does not believe in God, this account seems fantastical. If a person does believe in God this account still seems amazing.

Right before I was shot the twenty-first time, when two bullets hit me, I sensed a very strong presence beside me in my car. I looked beside me several times, but I was not able to see anyone. Once or twice, I thought that I had seen something vapourlike, similar to the visual effect produced by the shimmering in the air from heat coming off an object in the hot sun. Once again, my car window open for two reasons. It was a very hot July and my car was not equipped with an air conditioner and I was delivering newspapers from my car window. At one point, I felt as though someone was pushing me on my right shoulder towards the driver's door and the open car window. My head was gently but firmly being pushed, as well.

At first, I resisted, but I relaxed because I sensed that I was being told to allow myself to be pushed. My left shoulder hit the driver's door with a bit of a thud. I was in place for something. I knew that an Angel of God had been asked to push me.

I felt the final two bullets, that were fired at me during that week in July 1989, penetrate the middle of the front of my skull. My whole body was jerked down. I heard the two rifle shots about a second and a half later. I was stunned. It felt as though two white-hot rods of steel had been thrust through my head. My head felt as if it were on fire. There were two searing-hot spikes of pain in my right leg on the inside of the thigh. There was only enough time for me to be able to say to myself: "I am dead." Then, I blanked. I died.

PART SIX: TOWARDS A FIRST ENDING

I was never able to collect unemployment Insurance, which is now called Employment Insurance, because I had been dismissed. I had written a letter appealing my situation, but my letter was ignored. I tried every angle to be informed of my case. I even tried long shots. I chastised my parents several times for not having told me about my court case. They denied that there was even a case about me being tried. Behind my back, though, I heard them pondering how I knew about my case. In July 1988, the judge, who was presiding over my case in the Supreme Court of Canada, phoned my father and chastised him for not having told me about my case. This embarrassed and infuriated my father. He blamed me for this imposition. This rebuke from the judge was a source of extreme amusement for my mother. She spent hours on the phone telling different people how the judge had told my father off: she said that she wished that she had that much power over my father to tell him off. At this point, it was not a crime not to inform someone of his or her trial in my province. Provisions for such a law were not made until a little more than a year later. I had hoped that the judge would appoint proper representation for me in my case and make certain that I was informed. The other option, which I favoured less, was for the judge to declare a mistrial and restart the trial with me being given fair and proper representation. Neither option was ever exercised.

About four of five months after I came home from Smithers and underwent mental murder at my parents' hands, my family started to push me to find a job. My father threatened to pile all my belongings at the curb in front of his house, if I did not get some form of employment very soon. At this point in my life, I was not well enough mentally to do any job let alone function normally. My mother suggested that I apply at the radio station in Abbotsford, which is a city about six miles or ten kilometres from Mission.

I started a part-time job at CFVR in Abbotsford in September or October 1988. CFVR's parent station was STAR FM in Chilliwack and most of what I produced for CFVR was aired on both stations. I was paid four hundred dollars per month for ten 60-second to 90-second stories per week. I had to drive my own car all around the listening area, which was about 100 miles or 160 kilometres in length, to get many of my stories: I had to pay for my gas. Needless to say, I used the phone a lot in order to save money and time. I was chastised for not interviewing in person all the time.

My mother phoned the radio station and gave the radio station management the idea of the Eaton's game. The top people of CFVR and STAR FM decided not to hire me until I had gone to bed with someone. In all truth, I was too upset to be working and I was too upset to even really think about women. I was also still pining for the former receptionist of CFBV and I felt committed to her.

I came to know what CFVR and STAR FM were doing to me and I quit in about February 1989.

I appealed to my senator and she told me to appeal to the federal Minister of Justice. Senators in Canada are not elected yet and, at that time, they were appointed by the Prime Minister. To make matters worse, there has been and may still be a Canadian law that allows the Prime Minister to appoint up to ten new senators at one time and at any time. The political party, to which a Canadian senator belongs, was and likely still is unknown or not readily ascertainable. Needless to say, Senator H. Bell was not at all helpful to me. I wrote a letter to the federal Minister of Justice, who doubled as the federal Attorney General at that time.

The federal Minister of Justice, Mr. Douglas, did not contact me, nor did he do anything productive for me. He had many federal underlings spy on me. He instilled no sympathy for me or for my plight in anyone. In fact, he turned many people against me.

Canada is a unique country in many ways. The true head of state is the British monarch. Largely, the policy employed by the British monarch is one of trust with the Canadian politicians. It is generally a hands-off approach. This is not out of complacency, but rather a belief by the British monarch that inefficiencies on the part of the Canadian politicians will be reported to the British monarchy via the proper channels. Having said this though, the Prime Minister of Canada wants everyone to believe that the Prime Minister reigns supreme and there appears to be an atmosphere of collusion among all offices in Canada to allow all politicians to have free reign. To illustrate this point, let us take a look at one incident in Canadian history and compare it with two different perspectives on it.

In 1982, Prime Minister Pierre Elliot Trudeau fashioned what he named a new constitution for Canada and he made it law. He presented only part of it to Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II as a new Charter of Rights. Depending on which reference book, that one is using, the caption under the picture of this signing with the Queen and Prime Minister shown may either read that it was the signing of a new Charter of Rights for Canada or that it was the signing of a new Constitution for Canada.

I spoke to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II on March 3, 2003 and she told me that she signed what she was told was a new Charter of Rights for Canada. A copy of this document appears at the end of the Canadian Funk and Wagnall's Dictionary. This document is merely a rather short Charter of Rights. I did actually look at a copy of the "Constitution" in the public library in the 1980's. This document was lengthy and it did incorporate the Charter of Rights.

Incidentally, when France lost Quebec to the British in the last half of the 1800's, the British fashioned a constitution-like document, which is called the British North America Act. This document protected the linguistic and religious of the people of Quebec. It is stated that the Quebecois were nervous that they would lose the right to practice Catholicism and to speak French. The British rulers of that time promised to guard the rights of the Quebecois. The British North America Act survived and kept most Canadians reasonably content until Trudeau's new constitution of 1982! The original draft, that Trudeau made of his constitution, failed to mention Quebec's linguistic and religious rights. People in Quebec were alarmed. Separative sentiments of the Quebecois were given impetus. Trudeau revamped his constitution and made Quebec a 'distinct society'. Lots of English-speaking Canadians were insulted and angered by this new wording. Trudeau had created a rift between Canadians. Trudeau had played God and had come away looking like a Satan.

I wish to illustrate by this historical note how Canadian politicians often try to lord it over the citizens of Canada and how they often create new laws without due democratic process. To most Canadians, most Canadian politicians appear to be hypocritical power barons. Many federal politicians have seemed and do seem to despise Quebec and Western Canada: many actually admit their intolerance and disgust for both these regions in Canada.

Each province in Canada has a representative for the British monarch: this person is called a Lieutenant Governor. There is a federal representative for the British monarch, too, and this person has the title, Governor General. When my appeals to the various levels of the Canadian government turned out to be ineffectual, I decided to appeal to Queen Elizabeth II through the Lieutenant Governor of my province, British Columbia. His name was Robert Lamb (or Lam). Based on historical records and usual protocol for this office, it would have been standard procedure for my appeal to have been passed on to the Queen and Her Majesty's lawyers. I received a letter back from the Lieutenant Governor of British Columbia. He said that it was not the place of the Lieutenant Governor to become involved in private citizens' court cases. He said that the Lieutenant Governor made recommendations only on general laws and general legal procedures within the province of his or her jurisdiction. I was certain that this was partly a lie. I knew that a citizen could use that office to appeal to the British monarch. I did not get the chance to prove my belief until I spoke to the Queen on March 3, 2003. Her Majesty was furious about the weak and erroneous response that I had received from the Lieutenant Governor and stated that it was her representative's responsibility to forward such appeals to her. It seemed to me at the time and it still seems to me that most Canadian politicians support only themselves and sometimes might even exploit ordinary citizens.

I received the response from the Lieutenant Governor in March 1989 and decided against appealing to the Queen directly as I thought that the situation was too dangerous for Her Majesty. I began to worry about the safety of the former CFBV receptionist, who was my principal witness, and about her family. I sensed that many government officials were angry with them and me. I knew that the federal Canadian government was angry enough to kill any one of my main witnesses and me.

I made a calculated risk at this point: I appealed to the United Nations in New York. I wanted to get out of Canada legally with my principal witness and her family. My plan was simple. I wanted to make contact with someone on the phone and arrange this miniature exodus from Canada. I was prepared to move all my belongings out of Canada by myself and into America making sure that the American government knew my intentions and approved. Nevertheless, I did not want just anyone to know this simple plan. I wanted to speak to someone on the phone, discuss my plan, make the necessary preparations, and leave Canada without very much delay. I phoned the New York office of the United Nations from within the state of Washington and was asked to write a letter of appeal to a certain Mr. Dayal. I virtually pleaded with the person on the phone to transfer my call to someone, with whom I could discuss my complaints concerning the Canadian government and plan my fairly speedy departure from Canada. I told the person on the phone that my parents were against me, as well, and that it was a risk to my life to be caught in possession of such an appeal or a even part of it within my parents' house and within Canada. Furthermore, I said that it would have been impossible to receive a response to such an appeal at a Canadian address. These simple facts seemed incomprehensible to the person on the other end of the phone line. I was told that I had to submit a written appeal.

I wrote my appeal to Mr. Dayal on the sly and mailed it from Sumas, Washington, USA. I found a mailbox service in Sumas: its system was such that the user paid by the piece received. The only drawback was that mail was held only for two weeks and then it was returned to the sender. I was delivering newspapers at the time and was not making very much money, so therefore this type of mail service was the best for me. Needless to say, I missed the arrival of the response from the United Nations and it was sent back by the service. I had told the people at the mailbox service about the importance of the letter and had asked them to hold it longer, but they did not.

I phoned the United Nations again and explained what had happened. I was told that I had to write another appeal. I gave up and prepared myself mentally for my certain death at the hands of the Canadian government. The United Nations expertly extracted my principal witness and her family from Canada. This made the Canadian government even angrier with me and I was left to be gunned down. It seemed that the Canadian government was fully aware of my appeal to the United Nations against them.

PART FIVE: THE BEGINNING OF THE END

The receptionist at CFBV broke with her 'boyfriend' and decided to help me. From what I understand, she went to Labour Canada, which was the government department overseeing employee-related disputes with employers. She helped procure taped telephone evidence proving my problems and complaints with Eaton's. She assumed another name to gain access to my parents' house in Mission, British Columbia, Canada, drove down to Mission, and stayed with my parents without me knowing. She lied about her name because she knew that my parents knew the pain that she had caused me in Smithers as I had told my mother everything about my troubles: the receptionist's real name was synonymous with my problems and my dismissal from my job in Smithers.

This was the third time that Labour Canada was involved in the same type of case concerning me. Labour Canada learned that I could read lips and that I could remember things that I had heard in my sleep. In order to prove my complaints against Eaton's, Labour Canada had the receptionist's sister and her sister's friend stand outside my ground-floor apartment window while I was sleeping and tell me that my case was in court, talk about my case, and tell me the things that I needed to do before I left Smithers. This was not only completely cruel, but there was no control for the experiment. All the information, that I was given this way, became rooted deeply in my subconscious: it became an unprovable, dreamlike reality. I was never told directly about this third trial, either.

It was during this time that KNX, one of the Los Angeles radio stations, to which I had sent a demo tape, tried to contact me, but I had had my phone disconnected as I was leaving Smithers. KNX was unable to get in touch with me.

My sister-in-law was about to have her third child and she, my brother, and their two children were staying at my parent's place in order to be close to their doctor. My brother and his family lived quite far from Mission and my sister-in-law trusted a particular doctor in Mission. This doctor had been my family's doctor for years. It was at this time that my father promised to come up to Smithers to help me move back to Mission. I still had not been told that the former receptionist of CFBV was staying at my parents' place: I never would be told she was there. You see, I had given her real name asking if she were at my parents' house, but the answer had been negative, of course: while the receptionist's sister had stood outside my Smithers apartment and told me that the receptionist was at my parents' house, the sister had neglected to mention that the receptionist had lied about her name. The former receptionist of CFBV decided to confess to having lied about her name and my family was furious with her. My father ordered her, my principal witness, to leave his house: this was a serious mistake on my father's part. My father told my brother and his wife that he would expel them from his house, too, if they told me anything about my trial or about the receptionist having been in his house.

On an aside here, many people in Smithers believed that I was a witch because of what I could do and they wanted to invoke a centuries-old law that would have allowed me to be publicly stoned.

My father came up to Smithers and stayed overnight there, so that we could pack the two cars up in the morning and head to Mission. The night my father arrived in Smithers, the radio Station Manager, Al Colison, was allowed into the vacated apartment beside mine and had a post-midnight conversation with one of his friends about me, my situation, and what he wanted me to do once I arrived home. Please remember that this all entered my subconscious and that the filters that one can use while awake or conscious are inoperable during sleep. No one was immediately aware of this turn of events. Al Colison had heard what I could do and wanted revenge on me for all the trouble that the police investigation was causing him.

The next day, my father and I loaded up our two cars and drove home to Mission. We arrived at my parents'' home around 2:00 a.m. on March 28, 1988. Because of Al Colison's conversation, my state of exhaustion from the drive, and an extremely high stress level, I felt compelled to awaken my brother and sister-in-law to ask them what was going on in my life. I was certain that they would help me make contact with the receptionist from CFBV. My father and I had passed the receptionist from CFBV half way home, but I could not believe my eyes. I was convinced that the receptionist was in my parents' home. I searched the house and found that I was wrong. I panicked. I became disoriented. It had been instilled in my subconscious that the receptionist was in my parents' home and that she and her family were helping me. I insisted that I had heard people say that the receptionist was in my parents' house. I was told that I was "hearing voices" when there had not been any. My father told me that he thought that I was going insane. I was forced into my father's car through the threat of manhandling, if that was what it took to get me into the car. I was taken to the hospital emergency ward and given some Haldol, a strong, now long-since discontinued tranquilizer. The doctor on the emergency ward told me that he thought that I might be paranoid schizophrenic or under a lot of stress. He said that paranoidal schizophrenia seemed more likely. While I waited with my father in the emergency bed area, the doctor went over to fill out my small, temporary prescription and my brother followed him. My brother had gone to school with the doctor and he told him in private that I had actually heard voices. My brother explained the situation and the threat of being kicked out of my parents' house if he told me anything. The doctor told my brother that he seemed to be suffering the same illness as I was. He threatened my brother with the same treatment as I was to receive.

During my appointment with my family doctor, I was given the same verdict: I was probably paranoid schizophrenic. I was given a full prescription of Haldol along with its antidote. Haldol can put the person, who is taking it, into convulsions. I was also ordered to see a psychologist for my apparent disorder. I fell apart mentally and refused to speak for about three months while I was in my parents' house. I did not go out of the house for three months, either. I did not believe that I was who I am. I was very confused because what I had been told in my sleep was so much a part of my reality and so cemented to my subconscious that I did not know what was real. If one part of my reality was unprovable, then I felt that all was false. I felt the need to prove to myself that I really was Stuart Martyn Bennett and so I looked at my identification cards repeatedly. I also compared the French and German, that I remembered, with what was in textbooks and I found that what I had remembered was the same. This all validated my past and therefore my present at that time. I could not understand, though, why all these facts were true and yet only part of my subconscious was faulty. I wondered what had caused the mental aberration. Of course, I was not wrong. My subconscious was working very well and people around me were being mean to me.

During this time, I struggled with suicide between fifteen to twenty-five times a day. When my parents went to work, I became very distraught. On one occasion, I pulled a large kitchen knife for chopping out of a kitchen drawer and I held its point against my stomach. I was ready to slice my belly open. I stopped myself and prayed to God. Finally, one night about two months after having come home from Smithers, I half awoke from a very agitated sleep. I was in the process of having a nervous breakdown. I gave a cry and I felt myself die mentally. I sensed myself being drawn up out of my bed and through the ceiling of my second-storey bedroom as if I were part incorporeal. I felt the slight chill of the summer night air. I was outside, but I could not open my eyes. I could hear two angels of God discussing my mental death, my parents' foolishness, and how easy it would be to heal me. I was being levitated above the roof of the house. I awoke in my bed the next morning with only a vague recollection of the previous night's experience. I was on the mend.

I forgot this experience until I overheard my mother talking about my disappearance on that night to my father. He was highly skeptical. My mother then told my sister about my disappearance in a phone call to her. I overheard my mother's comments. She said that she had heard me cry out and that she had gone to see me in my bedroom to check if I were all right. She had not found me there. I had no pyjamas at that time and my clothes were on the chair in my bedroom. She found my house keys in my pants pocket and she found all the doors to the house locked. The two sliding-glass doors could not be locked from the outside and so my mother knew that I had not gone out of the house through those doors. The two other doors required a key to lock the dead bolts from the outside and these dead bolts were locked. There was no way for me to have left the house and my mother told my sister that she could not find me anywhere in the house. My mother also told my sister that I would never wander around the house at any time without my pants on at least: this statement is and was true for me. When my mother asked me the next morning where I had been the night before, I had replied with a lie that I had been in bed all night: I had not known how to respond and was not able to prove the truth.

The psychologist told me that she thought that I might be paranoidal schizophrenic or that I had just been under too much stress. She ordered me to go to see a psychiatrist at MSA (Matsqui, Sumas, Abbotsford) Hospital as an outpatient. I went there and was placed in some group therapy, as well. I had been attending these sessions for only a little while, when the receptionist from CFBV phoned my psychiatrist and told her the truth about me. She told my psychiatrist about my trial with Eaton's and about my parents' lie to me and about me. The receptionist told my psychiatrist that my account was true. The receptionist from CFBV even stayed at my psychiatrist's home and yet, I was never told. The receptionist could no longer talk to me because court proceedings had begun against Eaton's and it would have been considered contempt of court for her to talk to me. This case was being tried in the Supreme Court of Canada as it was a matter of extortion.

Charges were filed by the hospital against my parents in the Supreme Court of British Columbia without my knowledge. My parents were given chance upon chance to explain themselves and I was never informed of this trial, either. I was aware that there was a trial being conducted to prove my sanity, but I was given no true representation in that trial, either, and if I had said anything, it likely would have been denied. This would have been akin to mental murder again: it would have reinforced the negative and been detrimental to me. The hospital wanted to bring my family back together, if it were possible and it was not. I was too angry to want any reparation between my parents and me. I was never given a choice. The trial in the Supreme Court of British Columbia was overruled by someone affiliated with the trial being conducted by the Supreme Court of Canada. I thought that this overruling was done by the judge presiding over my case in the Supreme Court of Canada, but, knowing what I know now, I suspect that it was Crown Counsel that overruled on the case in the Supreme Court of British Columbia and had it thrown out. It is probable that my parents actually reported the lower court to Crown Counsel in an effort to get the hospital case declared a mistrial and protect their 'innocence'. I was destroyed and felt devastated by this outcome.

I faulted the judge on the Supreme Court of Canada, had him removed from my trial, and had a new judge put on my trial. I hoped that this would help me, but it did not. I was still not informed of my case. My parents were being told of my case and they were supposed to be telling me about it, but they were not. They had lied to the court (perjured themselves) and said that I was under the age of consent. The age of consent in the province of British Columbia is and was nineteen years of age. I was nineteen years old when I started working for Eaton's and this is when my problems with that company had started.

During the period between March 1988 to July 1991, my father wavered from being a little angry with me to being outraged wit me. During the winter of 1990 to 1991, I was shovelling the snow from around my car and, as I did not want to pile it on the driveway, nor on the street, I piled it on the snow that was already on the grouping of rocks in the front garden. My father came out and shouted at me, saying that he did not want the snow piled on his rocks. There was nowhere else to pile the snow. He swung his shovel at me missing my neck with it by about one foot or thirty centimetres. He then shovelled the snow off his precious rocks and piled it in front and behind my car. My father frequently exhibits very selfish and childish behaviour. I know that I am not perfect, but I am open and reasonably tolerant. My father can tolerate virtually nothing. On several occasions, my father threatened to put all my belongings at the curb in front of his house and to ask me to leave, if I did not find a good job. He has even made that threat several time recently from October 2003 to the beginning of June 2006. My father has even gotten me fired from several jobs. He has even had some of my managers spy on me. He has also reported several companies to Crown Counsel in order to stop them from hiring me for high-paying jobs.

My family doctor, my psychiatrist, and my psychologist all came to the conclusion that I had been under too much stress and had not been paranoid schizophrenic. All three of these professionals had learned the truth about me and they knew that my understanding of the events surrounding my dismissal from my radio job was true. They all had been silenced by the court and, in particular, it was likely Crown Counsel, that had silenced them with a contempt of court suit, if they told me what my parents had actually done to me.

One day after I had been taking the Haldol tranquilizers for a while, I went into convulsions from that medication. My head kept twisting to the left and this action forced me to roll over in my bed repeatedly. I thought that I was going to die. My neck felt as though it was going to twist off. I saw stars. I was close to blacking out. I saw scenes of my childhood flash before my eyes. It was all I could do to take the antidote for Haldol. I was taken off the Haldol.